


Shirt

by alrightginger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Flustered James, Missing Shirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alrightginger/pseuds/alrightginger
Summary: James is missing his lucky shirt. Lily has happened to find a new favorite shirt in the process.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 134





	Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt : is that my shirt?

James tosses another garment aside from his trunk after determining — quite miffed — that it’s not the one he’s looking for. 

“Where  _ is  _ it?”

The contents of his trunk are scattered throughout his room, adding to the clutter that has already been there since he practically moved into the Head Boy dorm at the beginning of the year. Cloaks, quills, random scribbles, and a doodle of Snape sitting underneath a storm cloud...he’s managed to pull out items he doesn’t even remember owning or hasn’t seen since his early years at Hogwarts. 

But he still cannot find his lucky shirt. 

He’s nearly about to burn down his room in a rage, which he’s quite confident in his ability to do. He’s gotten quite good at conjuring concerning levels of flames with his wand. Flitwick let out the highest pitched scream he’s ever heard last week during Charms when James demonstrated without actually being asked to do so.

Still, James knows actually setting his room on fire won’t help him find his shirt. If it is, in fact, in here, then the only purpose that would serve would be to disintegrate it. 

And while he’s quite marvelous at conjuring enough flames to burn down all of the Forbidden Forest, he’s not actually all that skilled in putting them out. He’d burn down his room and then all of Hogwarts, and would be out of both his favorite shirt and an education.

How dreadful. Another thing to be miffed about this evening. 

He’s worn the same shirt to bed every night before a Quidditch match for as long as he can remember. It’s a ritual of his that he assumes has served to help win him nearly every game he’s played in since his Quidditch career started. It’s ratty and old, and his mother has  _ begged  _ him every summer since fifth year to let her toss it out, but every summer he protests that it serves its purpose just fine. 

He only wears it to bed, she needn’t worry about the possibility of someone seeing her son in a worn down tee, and thinking that the Potters have gone to ruin. 

Which is exactly what his mother thinks will happen, he knows. Honestly, he’d call her dramatic if he isn’t acutely aware of the fact that he’s inherited said dramatic gene from her. 

He growls, putting Remus on a full moon to shame and bounds down the stairs, quite shirtless. 

He doesn’t consider the consequences of meeting Lily in their shared Heads’ common room until he’s in front of her, bare chested. 

They both freeze, James on the bottom step and Lily in the middle of her reading in front of the fireplace. 

“Um, hello,” Lily greets him, blinking several times in a row. Great, he’s flustered her. Normally this would do wicked things to his ego, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s feeling incredibly self conscious at the moment. 

He should have thought about the fact that they’re sharing a living space. He’s honestly surprised that he didn’t. It’s all he could focus on for the first few weeks back at school.

“Er— hi, sorry. I didn’t think you’d be down here, and…” James pauses for a moment, fully looking Lily over, and noticing something rather odd in her appearance. His jaw drops. “ _ Is that my shirt?” _

Lily peers down at the shirt she’s wearing as if she’s forgotten that she’s even got one on. It takes James an embarrassingly long time to pull his eyes away from the pretty blush tinting her cheeks to see that she is, in fact, wearing his shirt. It’s got the faded model of a broom no longer in production across the chest, and James feels as though he has  _ died.  _

He’s died and gone to wherever it is that good wizards go when they pass, because the sight of Lily Evans wearing his shirt is far too glorious for him to comprehend and it murders him.

“Oh, I guess? I don’t really know, honestly,” she admits, tugging at the material until it’s tight against her chest and James absolutely wishes that she wouldn’t. She’s not wearing a bra, apparently. 

Which is fine. 

She doesn’t have to wear a bra if she so chooses. 

He’s not so much of a prude that he thinks a bra is a necessary thing for a woman to be wearing. It’s nighttime, she’s obviously getting ready for bed. She’s allowed to be comfortable. He  _ encourages  _ comfort. He just doesn’t think he’s going to get the shape of her comfort of his mind for several years to come now.

He covers his eyes, looking at the ground instead, and willing the cold stone flooring of their common room to help him control his stupid, boyish urges that are threatening to tent his joggers. 

“Yeah, I think that’s it,” James says, clearing his throat when his voice comes off an octave higher than usual. “I’ve been looking for it everywhere. I thought maybe I left it downstairs, which is why I’m like this…” 

He gestures at himself, hoping he doesn’t have to explain any further his state of undress.

“The house elves must have gotten our laundry confused. It was on my bed with some other things this morning,” Lily explains, sounding amused. “Do you want it back?”

James thinks for a moment. Does he want it back?

Five minutes ago, he had been ready to burn down all of Hogwarts to find it. 

But now…

“No,” he says, not really comprehending that he’s speaking. “You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Lily blinks. “Are you sure? It seemed like it was pretty important to you. You came down here like you were prepared to go to battle.”

“Yeah...I’m sure. I have tons more. All of which are currently all over my bedroom floor. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, if you’re certain,” Lily says, tucking her legs underneath her on the couch. She beams. It’s so hard to look away. “It’s pretty comfy. I think it may be my new favorite shirt.”

James lets out a small laugh, running his hand through his hair. He doesn’t miss the way her eyes track the movement. 

“Just make sure to wear it before every Quidditch match for me, yeah? It’s sort of a ritual for me.”

“Ahh, I see. Yeah, okay then. I’ll be cheering you on tomorrow, you know.”

“Lily Evans, cheering me on? I don’t know if I’ll be able to get my broom off the ground with my inflated head.”

Lily laughs. “Goodnight, James. Get some rest for that giant head of yours.”

James salutes her before bounding the stairs two at a time, no longer feeling the urge to set the world aflame. 

“And I’ll make sure to wear a bra tomorrow in the stands so you don’t fall off your broom!” 

James trips on the last step. 

_ “Goodnight, Evans!” _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment! And visit my tumblr if you have a prompt request!


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